Bones Je'Taime
by RositaLG
Summary: A Bones fic collaboration extravaganza for Sunsetdreamer on her graduation day.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Hey y'all! So my bestest pal Sunsetdreamer graduates from graduate school on Friday *cheers* and in her honor, I **secretly** (At least I think it's still a secret) assembled a few willing authors to collaborate in a fic showcase a la 'Paris je t'aime'. Each author got one chapter to write anything they wanted. And let me tell you, they all knocked it out of the park. So sit back, pour yourself a drink, make a snack, and settle in for some _amazing_ fic reading.

And to my dear Ren, SURPRISE! PS: My bottom lip was bleeding for MONTHS. You're welcome. Now go read super slowly and then have a nice stretch of quiet time before your super huge, epically awesome, amazing day of joy and joyness.


	2. BlindAssassin: It's all Gravy from here

**It's All Gravy From Here**

"Uh uh. No way, Bones. I'm not doing it, and you can't make me."

"Booth, are you really saying "no"? To this?"

"Yes. Here's where I draw the line."

Brennan looked at her partner and didn't take care to mask her disappointment. They'd been playing this game for a while now, and so far, Booth had surprised her. He hadn't once balked at a challenge, hadn't once told her "no". The game was this: taking it in turns, one would challenge the other to try something new. The "something new" could be anything. Last week, she had attended her first baseball game (and found it to be one of the dullest experiences she'd ever had), the week before, she and Booth had watched "The Mummy's Hand" at their local movie theatre, and despite her insistence that "Kharis", and not the lumbering, foot-shuffling disaster that was "Imhotep" was the more realistic mummy, Booth hadn't agreed. She remembered thinking that this was one of those relationship tests Angela's magazines were always warning women to be on the look out for. So she let it go. For now.

"You understand that you can only pass once on something, after that, you forfeit, you lose the game."

"Yeah, I understand the rules, Bones. I invented them, didn't I?"

She nodded before trying to reason with him again. "So if you say no to this, that's it."

"I get that, but I can't do it, Bones. It's disgusting."

"Really? As disgusting as that body we discovered in that vat of used cooking oil, or as disgusting as the boneless woman we found in the trunk in the river?"

"Ew, thanks for reminding me."

"So you'll do this?"

"No!" Booth said in panic as she took a step closer to him. He didn't want to forfeit, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Just the thought of it kicked his gag reflex into gear, which now, thanks to Brennan's trip down "Gross Bodies We've Seen Lane", was considerably more alert. As he stood there, turning his back against the icy wind, which brushed over the peaks of the recently fallen snow all around them and pelted them with needles of cold, he wondered how in the hell he could get out of this.

It was all Canada's fault. They had travelled to this small Ontarian town in the middle of nowhere at the behest of the FBI, because their northern neighbours had a serial killer on their hands, and they needed help. He was doing fine back at home. Everything she threw at him, he'd faced head on. Sit through an old black and white movie about the world's most uninteresting mummy – sure, no problem. Tag along with Bones to a yoga class for new mothers – piece of cake. Try position number 69, "The Suspended Mastery" in Bones' seemingly, (and wonderfully) limitless book of acrobatic sexual positions – hell yeah! But...this? This was beyond him.

"Okay, so you forfeit. That's fine. But you should probably know that on my list of new things to try, is being vegan for a week, learning to crochet a new hat for Christine, a month of self-imposed sexual abstinence…"

"You wouldn't." Booth interrupted, his voice an octave or two higher than he wanted.

"Yes. I would." Brennan confirmed, her eyes finding his own and holding him captive, as always.

"But why? Why do that? For what possible reason would you…"

"For the pursuit of knowledge, of course."

"What the hell are you going to find out by making me celibate for a month? 'Cause I'll tell you right here and now, blue balls aren't attractive to look at, they're even less attractive than normal-coloured balls."

"I don't find your testes unattractive."

"Thanks, Bones. That's sweet of you and all, but that's not the point."

"You're right. The point is, Booth, that in the Hindu tradition of 'Brahmacharya', sexual abstinence is seen as a way of harnessing the energy of body and mind towards the goal of spiritual realisation. The preservation of semen is considered essential for the development of enhanced intellectual and spiritual capabilities."

"I think we can both agree that I'm spiritual enough for the both of us."

"This is true, but I'm not interested in whether celibacy enhances your spiritual capabilities, I'm solely concerned with…"

"Wait! I get it! You…you…want me to go without so you can see if it makes me smarter?" His voice was now so high up the vocal register that he wondered if only dogs could hear him.

"That's the abridged version, yes."

"For the love of…"

"So you see", Brennan said as she took another step closer, "accepting this challenge might be easier."

"Shit." He said, defeat making his broad shoulders narrow and hunched. "But it's just so gross."

"You know what might help?" She whispered, her breath momentarily warming his cheek and mouth, "try breaking it down into its constituent parts."

Booth smiled hesitantly. She had a point. He liked each element…just not together. Because, why….really, WHY would you combine them?

"Come on, Booth. Try it." Brennan held out the white polystyrene box, which, reluctantly he took from her.

Booth opened the box and tried not to look directly at its contents. Unfortunately, he couldn't shut out the smell, and so it escaped in one steamy puff and lodged in his nose. He snapped off the fork that was taped on the inside of the lid and swallowed hard against the urge to gag. He speared a corner of the brown and pale yellow congealed mess and wrestled a few fries loose. Raising them to his mouth, he cursed ever having invented this game.

Too many minutes and mouthfuls later, he gulped down the last of the fries. All that remained was greasy brown liquid and a few floating cheese curds. _He could do this. He could._

Lifting and then tilting the white box at an angle, he centred the corner against his partly opened lips. It was then that he felt her touch his forearm. "You did it, Booth. You ate the Poutine. Don't worry about the rest." But he was a man of his word, and so he told her: "Don't worry, Bones. It's all gravy from here".

**THE END**


	3. Dispatch22705: Five Reasons

Congratulations, Ren, on your major accomplishment! WHOOHOOOOO! May you have much success in your next venture, even if that means doing nothing for like 10 minutes or something! You deserve it! Now, to celebrate, here are "Five Reasons Booth Is Still Dazzled"

-b&b-

#1. Because she knows the truth of him, too

The clap of thunder jolted him, but it was the realization that Brennan wasn't sleeping beside him that fully woke him up. Still, his hand traced the mussed sheets where she'd been only hours before. He blinked a few times before rolling to his back and staring at the ceiling. The bed was warm and the sound of the ceiling fan soothed him. But with the bedroom door open, he could hear her soft murmurs coming from the nursery. Booth remained on his back for a few more seconds before gritting his teeth and moving his legs off the side of the bed. His tense feet rebelled, but he clenched his jaw and stretched them out until he could put his full weight on them. With a groan, he stood and fairly limped his way toward the nursery, Brennan's soft voice growing more pronounced the closer he got.

What he saw there didn't surprise him—it wasn't the first time he'd found her standing at their sleeping daughter's crib in the middle of the night. At first, her pretty brow had been creased with worry as she'd measured and analyzed little Christine's breathing patterns. And then she'd wanted to make sure she slept through the night. But now, as he leaned in the doorway, he realized this was just one of those times where she had something on her mind and she wanted to talk to her daughter.

_Don't worry, Booth_, she'd told him the first time he'd caught her_. I'm well aware that while sleeping she isn't likely to understand what I'm saying. Still, it's important for her to hear my voice._

He'd just smiled and nodded and coaxed her back to bed. But now, he merely watched, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned in the doorway.

Rain tapped at the windows and her low words felt like a spoken lullaby against the soft wind and infant sighs.

"He was the first man…the first person really, who ever got to know me. Your father is a very good man; he's just incredibly good. I never set out to have one person I cared for the most, but he was persistent."

Booth's mouth curved up in a smile as he listened to her words. He was about to make his presence known when she continued.

"I think he sometimes thought he didn't deserve happiness. But the truth is that he deserves the most happiness. It took me a long time to realize I could make him happy."

Whether she'd known he was standing there or not, he wasn't sure. But there was no surprise on her face when she turned around and met his eyes.

"C'mere," he murmured, his voice low and husky with sleep.

Brennan walked toward him, and immediately, he pulled her into his arms. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled; his heart swelled so much, he was afraid it would burst from his chest. "I love you, Bones," he kissed her cheek and neck. There was so much he could have said, but he just had to show her…he had to show her how much she meant to him. He knew that she knew he loved her, but sometimes…it was just too much. In the past, there were times he'd thought he'd explode and go crazy not being able to tell her how he felt. But now that he had her in his life, in his arms, in his bed, the feeling only amplified. His hands roamed possessively over her back, and he growled his appreciation at the feel of her bare thighs against his hands. Pressed against him, he felt her full breasts against his chest, and her nipples hardened through her thin sleep tank.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he palmed her bottom before lifting her in his arms and walking back toward their bedroom. She hooked her legs around his waist and moaned as his hard length pressed between her thighs. Booth rasped out a groan and couldn't help pressing her against the wall just inside their bedroom door. When she let out a pleased laugh, he pressed his hips against hers, rotating and shifting until she was digging her fingernails into his bare biceps. "Booth, please," she gasped, and he groaned.

"Okay," he grabbed her hands and walked backward to their bed. He fell back and stared up at her as he kicked off his boxers. "Get rid of the panties but leave on your top."

Her eyes went bright with wanting and heat and promises that took his breath away. Eagerly, she pushed her underwear down and climbed on top of him to straddle his thighs.

"You like this tank top?" she asked, already planting her hands on his wide shoulders

"I like these," he replied as his palms slid beneath the silky fabric to cup her breasts. "You get me hot, Bones."

She laughed and gripped his erection in her hand, tormenting him by using her fingers on his base while teasing his head with her wet heat. Soon, it was his turn to beg.

"Bones, please," he ran his hands over her bare skin before returning to her breasts and lightly thumbing her nipples.

"Oh," she gasped and tossed her head back with pleasure as she sank down onto him all the way.

"Yeah," he groaned, loving the firm mattress beneath him and the lush, hot woman above him. "Nice and slow, Bones. Just like that."

With one hand, he cupped her hip and followed her rhythm, his eyes nearly going crossed at the way she rode him, so tight and wet. He loved the way her breasts filled out her sleep shirt, but in that moment, he really wanted to see her. While she moved, he tugged the fabric up and over her head, leaving her completely bare. Unable to resist her a moment longer, he rose up on his elbows and used his mouth on her, licking, kissing and sucking any part of her he could reach.

He tongued her hard nipples, sucking them before kissing his way to her perfect shoulders. He gently scraped his teeth against her earlobe and then used the tip of his tongue to trace her jawline. And all the while, Brennan wrapped around him like a vine, her body moving up and down on his. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, and he felt the moment when her nipples grew even tighter—signaling her orgasm.

Booth wrapped his arms around her back and held her close as she squeezed him with her internal muscles and pulled his own orgasm out of him, leaving him breathless and slightly dazed.

After a long moment, he blinked his eyes open and smiled. She was draped over him, all lush curves and soft skin. "This is my favorite thing, Bones," he murmured, and then felt a rush of satisfaction when she could barely lift her neck up high enough to meet his gaze. Her forehead was flushed, and her eyes slightly distant in the way that told him she'd been well pleasured.

"Sex?" she asked, her brow slightly furrowed.

Booth chuckled, his stomach pressing against the curve of hers at the motion. "No. Well…_yeah_, but I mean this…" he lifted one hand and motioned toward their bodies. "You, happy, on top of me. Head to toe, every inch of you on every inch of me. I love the way you feel _on_ me, Bones. Here," he splayed his fingers over her thighs before moving them up her sides to skim them against the sides of her breasts where they were pressed so perfectly against his chest. "I love it when you ride me like that, and when you come so hard, I can't help but follow you over, baby."

Her nostrils flared a bit, and he felt a flex of her inner muscles against his body, letting him know that she liked it when he talked that way.

"You're incredible, Bones," he added before rolling them both until she was beneath him. Lightly, he traced her hair. "But more than that," he murmured. "You're perfect for me. And you're the only one who truly makes me happy."

She smiled and gently cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down for a soft kiss.

-b&b

#2. Because she still surprises him, in the best way (Blackout in the Blizzard tag)

Booth took another swig of his beer and enjoyed the way Brennan's arm felt pressed against his. The damn bleacher seats weren't even close to the most comfortable seats in his apartment, but she hadn't made any move to get up, so he wasn't going to either.

After a few moments, he felt her looking at him, but when he glanced over, she looked away, almost studiously examining the label on her beer bottle. It happened again, but this time, their eyes held, and he could see a question forming in her mind.

"What is it, Bones?" he asked.

She didn't reply right away, and he could see a soft smile starting in her eyes. Curiosity had him naturally leaning toward her even more, and he smiled when she didn't pull away.

"Nothing," she replied, and he didn't believe her for one second. But she clearly didn't want to express what was going on in her mind, and he wasn't in any mood to fight. They'd both revealed a lot already, and just thinking about it all started a low warmth in his belly.

"I should probably get home," she commented before setting her bottle on the table and standing up.

"Need a ride?" he offered, and she shot him a quick glance.

"No," her voice was slightly suspicious. "Why would I?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "You've had a lot to drink tonight."

"I've had the same amount as you," Brennan insisted, motioning toward the four beer bottles on the table.

"Well, yeah," he leaned back in his seat and stretched. "But I'm bigger than you."

Her hands landed on her hips. "That's not the only indicator of alcohol tolerance. It's-"

He cut her off by standing up quickly, and their close proximity made her eyes widen. It made his heart speed up as well. The banter and flirtatiousness between them felt new again and yet oh, so familiar. And once again, he saw a flicker of…something in her eyes. Some sort of question she wanted to ask, but for some reason wasn't.

Booth cleared his throat and the moment ended. He watched as Brennan gathered her winter coat, hat and scarf, and he followed her toward the door. At the last minute, she turned to say goodnight, and she looked so _cute_…standing there in her hat. He couldn't resist tugging on her scarf a bit. When her lips parted, he made a show of making sure her coat was fastened all of the way. His cheeks felt warm as he cleared his throat again. "You…uh, you should be all set, Bones," he murmured softly.

He resisted the urge to cup her shoulders, to keep touching her as memories of the day coursed through his mind—her wide eyes and breathy voice as she told him she'd imagined them in bed together. The soft but sure touch of her hands as she'd massaged his thigh. The sweet way she'd smiled when he'd nudged her arm with his and teased her. And the vulnerable way she'd made it clear she still wanted to try for more with him when they were both ready. In her eyes, he saw all of those things and what felt like 100 more moments. The flicker from before was back, and this time, he didn't want to take no for an answer. "What is it, Bones?" he asked, one hand reaching behind her for the doorknob. "What are you thinking about?"

She stared at him for a moment before smiling softly. "I was just…well, I was thinking…" her eyes narrowed a bit. "Do you really think we'll be good together? In bed?"

Everything grew tight all at once, and without permission, his other hand hit the door behind her. He'd effectively trapped her between him and the door, but he was more surprised about it. All of the good reasons he had for taking it slow seemed to vanish between them as quickly as the flittery hot dog wrappers in the candle fire—like an infinity of wishes sacrificed to the universe swirling around them.

"Yeah, Bones," he finally found his voice, his eyes tracing from her soft gaze to her gently parted lips and back. "I do."

When she didn't reply, his eyebrows rose. "Do you?"

"Yes," she replied quickly, and for a fraction of a second, her fingers brushed against his chest as if to reassure him. "There is an incredible amount of proof to support my theory as well."

Her assured smugness was addictively sweet, and he couldn't help but grin. All of a sudden, everything was going to be fine. Just _absolutely perfectly _fine.

Booth grinned and looked away a second before moving back and opening the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bones. Be careful out there," he watched as she left his apartment, and he watched her until she was out of his sight. Even then, he stood by his door for a moment longer and smiled.

-b&b-

#3. Because she's freaking dazzling, that's why.

Her head shifted on her pillow and she glanced his way. "It's only one night, Booth," Brennan rolled her eyes, and Booth knew she thought he was being over-dramatic.

"I know that, Bones…but it's the _first_ night," he explained unnecessarily, overcoming her resistance and pulling her into his arms.

She smiled indulgently and placed her hands on his chest. "I know," she conceded. "I admit that after these past few weeks…it will be strange not sleeping in the same bed as you. But you'll only be gone one night."

It was true, he'd signed up for a conference in Philly the year before, and it wasn't a huge deal. But after being with her every night for the past month, he already knew the hotel bed would be cold and lonely and he'd barely be able to get any sleep. She'd become his most addictive nightcap, and he just plain loved sleeping with her and waking up with her the next morning.

He sighed grumpily, and she laughed, leaning in to plant a quick kiss against his frowning lips. The sweet action made him smile, and then she laughed again.

"I love the sound of your laugh," he admitted on a rush, and Brennan blinked.

"Thank you," she answered, and this time when she laughed, it was softer…a little breathless.

Booth stared at her, feeling a bit shy at his confession. But he was emboldened by her response and he tugged her closer. "See…this. Right here. This is what I'm gonna miss the most, Bones," he growled, hooking one of her legs over his hips.

She smiled and looped her arms around his neck. "Sex?"

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she chuckled.

"It's just not as good without you, Bones," he joked, his tone dramatic.

She tilted her head to the side, and her eyes narrowed. "Well, sometimes."

Instantly, his hand tightened on her back. "Bones," he warned.

"I'm not saying self-stimulation is better than intercourse," she insisted, a pink flush already covering her cheeks. "I'm merely _pointing out_ that people can become quite adept at satisfying their own sexual needs." There was a pause, and then, "I know I did."

"See it to believe it," Booth muttered without thinking, and then they both froze slightly, each one eyeing the other.

"Are you…_asking_ to see that?" Brennan pulled back and leaned up on one elbow. Booth's gaze traced over her face and down to her waist where her sweatshirt revealed a small strip of skin above her sleep pants.

"Are you…_offering_?" he replied, letting his fingers gently skim over the sheet between their bodies.

"I would…_if_ you ask," she deferred, and his eyes narrowed.

"You're gonna make me ask? That's how it's gonna be?" he matched her position, and then she saw the small quirk to his lips. "Okay, yeah. I can do this. How about it, Bones?" he motioned toward the bed and waited until she moved onto her back. "Will you…that is, um…will you, you know…touch yourself. For me." He cleared his throat. "Get yourself off and make yourself come. Like you would-"

"Before we were together?" she offered, and his eyes went nearly black at the thought.

"I was going to say 'as if I'm not here', but yeah, that works too," he licked his lips and swallowed.

"I will," she replied, and her prim little answer made him chuckle and flush at the same time.

"To clarify," she continued. "Are you wanting me to touch myself like I did when I fantasized about you or about someone else."

"Bones!" he choked out a horrified gasp, and she took pity on him, leaning up and kissing him with a smile before settling back against her pillow.

Booth stared down at her and then shifted until he was on his side and could watch her every move. He watched as she closed her eyes and settled her arms at her side. He saw the nearly imperceptible shift of her hips against the mattress, just a gentle rocking motion. Then she swept her hair up over her head, leaving it splayed against her pillow as she traced two fingertips against her neck.

Booth felt himself get very warm, and he wondered if he could survive this. Willing himself not to launch himself at her, he kept watching.

She traced the collar of her sweatshirt, a light touch intending to tease and arouse. Booth saw the faintest press of her nipples against her sweatshirt, and he knew they weren't completely hard yet—all it would take is a scrape of his teeth against the skin below her ear or on the sole of her foot, any one of her erogenous zones. But this was her show.

Brennan sighed deeply and, in a move that surprised him, peeled her sweatshirt completely up and off of her body. He'd expected teasing, a flash of skin here, a caress of a breast there. But now, she was completely bare from the waist up, and his mouth watered at her pale skin. She stroked her sides and her stomach, and her hips shot up from the bed at the small patch of skin beneath her belly button. He knew she was ticklish there, and he watched her tease around it.

She smoothed her palms over her stomach and then up to curve against the undersides of her breasts. A frustrated frown caused her brow to furrow when she denied herself more pleasure and moved her hands back down her stomach. She repeated the process a few times, and let her thumbs stroke closer and closer to her nipples with each pass, never quite touching them. They were growing tighter under his gaze, and Booth watched as Brennan licked her lips. He wanted to lean over and suck on her, to pull her into his mouth while she fingered herself and came, but he also wanted to see her touch herself. He filed it away as another fantasy and murmured his appreciation for her actions.

Her eyes opened quickly, almost as if she'd forgotten he was even there. They looked at one another for a moment and without breaking eye contact, Brennan used her thumbs and forefingers to gently pinch her nipples. She groaned then, low and long and repeated the motion, her eyes slamming shut in pleasure. She cupped her breasts, stroking them with occasional pinches to the tight peaks. Booth knew just how she liked to be pleasured, and he also knew how her body responded. He was certain that if he cupped her between her legs that he'd find her hot and damp for him.

All of a sudden, she moved, turning onto her hands and knees. Booth watched with fascination as she began rubbing just the tips of her breasts against the textured sheet. She was gasping and working, moaning each time her nipples made contact with the material. Occasionally, she pressed her entire upper body against the bed, grinding her hips to the mattress before she'd rise up on her hands again and continue the process.

"I used to imagine you with me," she confessed, and Booth grew harder at her husky words. Up until that point, they'd both been fairly silent. "I'd imagine you telling me all of the things you wanted to do to me."

He swallowed hard. "Do you want me to talk to you now?" He would; he absolutely would. He'd tell her about how he wanted nothing more than to peel her pants off and bury his face in her heat from below. How he wanted to straddle her from behind and stroke into her until she came so hard she nearly killed him.

"No," she panted, turning onto her back once more and squeezing her breasts to maintain a heavy pressure. "I want to do it. I want to do this."

"Okay," he nodded, his eyes roving over her body. "Okay, yeah. Whatever you want, baby."

Brennan pulled in a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She ran her hands against the waistband of her pants before skimming her fingers up and over her breasts a few times. Only when her hips began to constantly arch up at every touch did she slip one hand into her pants. Booth watched as she stroked her skin once, twice, a third time before pulling her hand back out. She used her damp fingers to rub one nipple, gently tugging on the other with her opposite hand.

"I used to imagine you tasting me. All over," she told him, her voice breathless as she hooked her thumbs into her pants and moved them down her hips. They were easy to kick off and she let them pool at the end of her bed. "We were always eating together, and often, I'd come home, wet and needy, just thinking about your mouth and what I wanted you to do with me."

"Damn, Bones," Booth rasped out, unable to keep completely silent. She was going to make him come in his boxers. When she palmed the insides of her thighs, he couldn't help but cup his dick and try to stem the throbbing he felt.

"But I wanted your hands too," she continued, smoothing her own hands over her body in wide, deliberate strokes, as if she was imagining him touching her. She didn't hold back at all, and Booth groaned when he caught sight of her shiny wet opening.

Brennan planted her feet on the bed and let her knees fall open. She used one finger to stroke through her folds and cupped her breast with the other hand. Booth recognized her rhythm and watched as she ran the pad of her finger over her clit in circles. Her eyes were closed, and her lips parted. She dipped two fingers into her opening, gently stroking just the inside. Booth knew the way she loved it when he inserted just the tip of his cock into her pussy, and his mouth watered at the thought of replacing her fingers with his tongue. He moved his hand into his boxers and gripped the base of his cock before running his fingers down to the head. Pre-cum pearled out of his slit, and he cursed low in his throat as he rubbed it down his shaft. He was torturing himself, he knew, getting himself wet while watching her slick fingers disappear into her body.

"_Now_ talk to me," she demanded, and Booth blinked, forcing his eyes away from where she was stroking herself. He stared at her face for a moment, watching as she never opened her eyes. Then he moved off of the bed. He walked around it, getting the visual from all angles as he stripped off his boxers.

"Bones, you have no idea how fucking hot you are right now. I'm about to come in my own hand, just watching you."

Her eyes flew open again at his words, and they narrowed at the way he was fisting his own cock, stroking in time with her moans.

"You gotta know that for as many times as you got yourself off thinking of me, I was doing the same thing, thinking of you, baby. So many times I tried to stop." He paused near the headboard and then leaned over her, one hand still wrapped around his throbbing dick and the other hand planted to the bed near her pillow. "But I couldn't stop. It wasn't possible, was it, baby?"

"No," she gasped, her fingers moving even more frantically as she watched his hips rock into his fist, the dark slide of his hard and thick length pushing through his tight grip. "I could never stop for long."

"Yeah," he grunted, and he knew he was close. They needed to make a decision, but he couldn't seem to stop talking. "Know what that tells me?" he hissed out a sharp breath when she ran her fingers through her creamy core and then dragged them against his bare thigh. Enough was enough. He straddled her, and let his dripping cock press against her lower stomach. His mouth hovered over her breasts and he sucked one nipple and then the other before moving up and capturing her mouth in a hard kiss. "That tells me that we're made for each other, Bones." With that, he reared back and thrust inside of her in one move. "Fucking made for each other, baby"

"Oh, yes," Brennan cried out, her hands gripping his ass as he rocked into her again and again. She undulated beneath him and within three strokes, she was flooding around him as she came, squeezing and fisting his cock with her body.

Booth buried himself deeper, his neck arching back as his body pressed her into the mattress. He felt the pressure at the base of his spine, and then the pleasure shot forward, out of him and into her in a rush that left him breathless and vulnerable in her arms. "Bones", he whispered. "Bones, Bones, Bones," over and over, her name tripped from his lips.

With a groan, he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him until she was tucked up against him. He sighed happily when she curled her arm over his stomach and kissed his side.

The clock in the living room signaled it was midnight, and Booth groaned at the realization that he had to leave her in less than eight hours. Brennan knew what he was thinking and chuckled softly, kissing him again. With more energy than he could muster, she moved until they were face to face. "It's just one night, Booth…" she promised with a kiss to the side of his mouth.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "But it's the first night."

-b&b-

#4. Because she gets fierce

"And why _exactly _are you telling me this, Angela?" Booth balanced his phone against his shoulder as he maneuvered through traffic.

The artist's laugh was almost too loud for the phone, and Booth winced.

"Because," he heard her say. "Now that you're together—you can be the one to get her and make sure she doesn't kill anyone."

Angela hung up, and Booth stared at his phone for a moment, considering her words. With a sigh, he changed lanes and then moved the SUV in the opposite direction of his apartment and in the direction of the Jeffersonian.

It only took a few moments to park and then find the small work-out room for Jeffersonian employees. It was abandoned, with the exception of one intense genius-_his_ intense genius. And he realized right away that Angela had been right. She was furious about something. He watched with admiration as she pounded away at the punching bag, alternating punches and kicks. Her ponytail was higher than normal, making her hair stand out straight in parts, giving her an even more annoyed look. He scanned his access card through the slot and silently entered, standing at the doorway. He wasn't sure whether to stop her or not. He knew better than most how refreshingly cathartic it could be to just pound frustrations out once and for all. And, when she was furious about something, he almost always found himself slightly dazed.

Her fierce eyes and flushed skin made her incredibly beautiful, and the way she would spit out words faster than just about anything always had him fighting to keep up. In her skintight, no-nonsense workout gear, she moved with precision and fluidity, a rare combination only she could accomplish.

It wasn't entirely fair that her fury and passion made him hot. She sometimes made his blood boil, but most of the time she just made his body thrum with anticipation. He sensed the exact moment she noticed him, a small flinch in one movement where she backed off a fraction of an inch.

She ignored him for a few more moments, but circled the punching bag with jabs and kicks.

"I'm angry" she said, after a few moments, still continuing her workout.

"At me?" he asked, honestly unable to think of anything that could possibly be between them.

"No," is all she answered, and she was silent for several more minutes as she punched.

It was fine by him—he loved watching her. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her movements, noticing everything about her. The graceful line of her fingers, wrapped in boxer's tape. The fine sheen of sweat against her brow. The tiny curls at the nape of her neck. The drop of perspiration slipping down between her breasts. The way one shoelace was coming undone. He was so lost in his admiration of her that he almost missed her next words.

"Do not try to make me feel better," she warned, and for the first time, she stopped moving. She stood before him, a tall line of barely concealed frustration. "You can do that. You can hug me and make me feel better just by saying the right thing." She pointed toward him with narrowed eyes. "But _do not_ do that. I don't want to feel better. I _want_ to be mad right now. Do you understand?"

She was so fucking gorgeous—she blew his freaking mind. Unable to stop himself, he took a step toward her. He saw a flash of fear in her eyes. Genuine fear that he would flirt and cajole her into a smile when she so clearly wanted to be pissed off at the world…or at least at some unknown part of it. "Do not hug me right now," she practically spit out the demand

"Don't worry, Bones," he growled, moving to stand within arms' length of her. "The only thing I wanna do right now is fuck you."

Her eyes narrowed, and he stood his ground. She brazenly looked him over from head to toe, and he made no move to hide the erection forming in his dress pants.

"Tell me you want that, and I'll do it. Right here, right now," he promised darkly. "Tell me you want me to leave, and I'll do that too."

Her nipples beaded beneath her sports bra, and then she gave him a single nod. It was all he needed before he pounced on her, immediately dragging her to the floor and covering her with his body. He fisted her workout pants and pushed them down as far as he could before shoving his hand between her legs. He sucked two fingers into his mouth before pressing them against her opening, groaning when they slid right in with no resistance.

Her gaze was almost icy in color, but such a blue heat as she studied him. She made no move to help him as he unfastened his belt and zipper. With two strokes to his cock, he was ready, and he teased her opening for a second before sliding inside. Only then did she arch back and hiss.

He fucked her, keeping his promise. There were no soothing words, no soft touches, no teasing kisses or murmurs of love. Just his cock deep inside her, over and over. He pressed his body against hers, and let his elbows fall to the floor as he pistoned into her, riding her low and hard. She got wetter around him, and he got harder. Booth ignored her parted lips and instead bit and licked at her nipples through her bra. Brennan's pants made it impossible for her to wrap her legs around his waist, but she bucked her hips against his and dug the heels of her hands into his back and shoulders. After a few moments, she yanked her bra over her breasts, and Booth got the message, licking and sucking at her with tongue lashes and sharp teeth.

His hips started to tense up as he sped up his pace. Normally, he would use words, verbally encourage her to come apart for him. She loved it when he talked dirty to her. But tonight, the only sounds were his soft grunts and the slap of his flesh against hers as he slammed into her over and over. She began panting and rotating her hips in a circular motion. He recognized it as her impending orgasm, and he gave her more of his weight as he bore down and fucked her as hard as he could.

Brennan buried her face in his neck, and just as she clenched around him, he swore he heard a whispered "Booth" in his ear. But there was no time to think as he kept up his rhythm and then completely shattered inside her.

Harsh breaths gave way to softer sighs and Booth forced himself to move off of her. He stared at her face, trying to gauge her reaction. She didn't say a word, but she did accept his hand when he offered to help her up. Booth fixed her pants while she fixed her bra, and then he watched her watch him as he refastened his pants and belt.

Her chin jutted out with just the slightest stubborn tilt. "I'm not leaving yet." And Booth knew better than to argue. She'd talk to him about it, if and when she ever wanted to. And if she never did, she'd still be coming home to him, and that was all he cared about.

"I'll see you later, Bones," he replied with a quick kiss to her lips before he turned and left the gym. He felt her eyes on him as he walked, but when he closed the door, he turned and saw her circling the punching bag once again.

-b&b-

#5. Because she's girly too, sometimes

Booth briskly ran a towel over his hair, not caring that it stood on end. He wrapped another towel around his waist and whistled softly as he walked from the bathroom to the bedroom. What he saw there made him pause and then blink.

Brennan was seated at her vanity, her brow gently furrowed as she meticulously applied fingernail polish to her nails. Her hair was unbound and loose, curling in soft waves around her shoulders, and she was dressed only in a pale pink robe. Her face was fresh and void of makeup, and he heard her humming. It was too soft to make out, but he recognized it as either a song she was trying to remember the words to or some equations she was working out in her mind. Everything about her was pretty and feminine, and…he wanted her.

"Hey, Bones," he spoke up as he walked over to her, immediately pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Pretty," he commented and then traced a finger down her arm. When he leaned down to kiss her lips, she complied, but then pulled away. "Don't…" she motioned with her hands and then jerked them back carefully. "Don't touch me. The polish needs to dry."

His eyebrows rose. "Me touching you doesn't have an effect on your nail polish, Bones," he argued, already moving back in.

Brennan's lips firmed to a straight line and she stood up, trying to move away from him. Booth eyed her, unable to stop his smile. She was just too freaking adorable. He scratched his chin and pretended to consider. "The way I see it…the only way me touching you would affect your nail polish is if _you_ can't seem to keep your hands off _me_," he teased, laughing when she rolled her eyes.

Her annoyance was her miscalculation, and he used his best skills to grab her and pin her hands to the wall so quickly, she didn't even see it coming. She gasped, but she was already at his mercy, her fingers splayed against the wall as he braced his body against hers from behind. "Booth!"

"You're fine," he insisted with a seductive tone. "Look. Nothing happened to your nails," he murmured, already smoothing her hair over one shoulder so he could press a soft kiss to the side of her neck. "You just stay here…just like this, and everything will be just fine, Bones."

His hands trailed over her sides, and he smiled at finding her naked beneath her robe. She shivered, and he watched as her nipples pearled against the fabric. Still behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and cupped the undersides of her breasts, rubbing his thumbs just under her nipples until she squirmed and tried to move into his touch. Booth laughed and ignored her wordless demands. Instead, he loosened the ties of her robe until the silky material fell open, exposing her from her neck to her knees.

"Take it off," she demanded huskily, and the sound made Booth's mouth go dry. He knew exactly what it meant when she sounded just like that. It meant she was as ready for it as he was, and he loved that he had her just where he wanted her.

"Nope," he palmed her bare stomach and pressed up against her from behind, letting her feel him through her flimsy robe and his towel. "That would require moving your arms, and we don't want to mess up your nail polish, do we, Bones?" he mocked.

She cursed at him, and he laughed, loving that he was getting her riled, but loving even more that she was going along with it. He skimmed one hand down to cup her mound and groaned at the heat he found. His other hand curved upward and he started thumbing one nipple as he used his other thumb to gently stroke over her slit. She was already wet, and he inhaled a sharp breath, forcing himself to keep a slow pace. "So now, tell me, Bones. Did you just feel like painting your nails, or is there some special occasion I'm not aware of?" His words were casual, but he increased the pressure of his touch just a fraction. She kept her hands pressed to the wall but also leaned back against him, using his strength to widen her stance a bit. It caused her lower lips to part, and on the next upward brush of his thumb, he touched her slippery clit. She bit her lip and moaned, and he did it again, adding a pinch to her nipple with his other thumb and forefinger. She rotated her hips then, and it was his turn to groan.

"Just…felt like it," she confessed, letting her head fall back against his shoulder as she began to work her hips against his hand. He saw the tension in her wrists and knew there was nothing she wanted more than to take his hands in hers and force him to touch her more, to touch her harder, deeper and faster.

"Hmmm, I like that." he weighed her response and then stepped back. She gasped and whirled around, but he gripped her elbows. "Don't worry, Bones. I'm not done yet."

He moved between her and the wall and once again placed her palms against it, this time on either side of his shoulders. The brightness of her eyes and the pretty flush of her cheeks made him harder than he already was, and he palmed one of her hips while getting rid of his towel. It pooled at his feet and before she could say anything, he planted a hard, fast kiss against her lips and then sank to his knees. He could already smell her sweet desire, and his mouth watered. Booth looked up her body and saw that her head was tilted back, her eyes squeezed shut with anticipation. But her hands remained against the wall, and he wanted to reward her for that.

Gently cupping her bottom in both hands, he leaned in and slowly lapped at her slit, moaning at her taste. She flinched and cursed again, and he smiled against her skin, working the tip of his tongue between her folds on his next lick, lazily tracing her sensitive flesh. Brennan shivered, hard, and Booth heard her moan. If they'd been in their bed, he knew she would be gripping the headboard or his hair, or even touching her own breasts. Her breasts were full and pretty with pouting nipples begging for a suck. Images of making her come and then carrying her to bed to suck her breasts until she begged him for more coursed through his brain, and he increased his pace, squeezing her ass in his hands and bringing her closer to his face. The towel was scratchy against his knees, but he barely noticed as he sank his tongue into her body, licking at her opening and following up with open-mouth kisses against her folds.

Brennan whimpered and moaned, but he could barely hear her. All of his attention was centered between her legs, and he nipped and nuzzled at her clit until it hardened and she grew even wetter. Only then did he use one longer finger inside her, gently stroking in and out. In and out as his lips wrapped around her clit with a soft suction until her hips moved at the same rhythm. He added a second finger, turning them upward to curl against her inner walls and gently drag at her opening.

Brennan's knees locked and she widened her stance further, wordlessly begging him to keep going. He switched tactics…burying his tongue inside her and rubbing her clit with the wet pads of his fingers. Her core clenched around his tongue and he went deeper, swirling and sucking as he pressed her even closer to his face. He knew she was close, he could fucking taste it on her as she undulated against his mouth. He used his fingers and teeth and lips to push her over the edge, and just when he felt her flood his tongue, he felt the sharp grip of her hands in his hair. He groaned at the sensation and licked at her as she came in his mouth. Unable to quit, he murmured soft praise and kissed her sensitive folds as she came down from her high. She was trembling, and he realized she was panting his name. Rising a bit, he fully wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek to her stomach. She cupped the back of his neck and then touched his shoulders, silently telling him she wanted him closer. He bit back a groan as he stood, and then all pain was irrelevant as she wrapped her arms around his neck and stared up at him with the dreamiest look on her face.

Booth kissed her and then turned her so that her back was up against the wall. With her legs already spread, he immediately thrust inside her, groaning at her slick heat. He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed frantic kisses against her neck and chest. "Fuck, Bones, you're drenched."

She lazily arched against him, wrapping her legs around his waist. "That tends to happen when I'm highly aroused."

Booth smiled and hiked her up until his mouth was level with her breasts. Pausing for a moment, he met her eyes. "Are your nails dry?"

She smiled back and gently pushed his head down toward her skin. "Don't worry about that."

Booth grinned and licked her teasingly before taking her in his mouth and making her groan. He began thrusting again, and it wasn't long before he was tensing and ready to come. She used her newly painted, sharp little nails in his back, and he was a goner, shooting inside of her so quickly, he was afraid he'd hurt her. "Bones!" he gasped and buried his face in the curve of her neck. He tried to catch his breath and managed to stumble backward far enough to fall onto their bed with Brennan at his side. She tucked her body close to his, and he tried to focus on more than just her soft curves and the sweet smell of her skin.

But she didn't make it easy on him, and soon they were both smiling, kissing and gasping…and begging for more.

-b&b-


	4. JMHaughey: A Long Time Coming

Brennan stopped on the last step and stood still for a brief moment. No sound coming from upstairs. Mission accomplished. The baby was sleeping again.

Booth was standing over the sink. He couldn't hear her over the water coming from the faucet. He was clearing away remnants of the party just celebrated. Brennan stood in the doorway watching her partner sway to the rhythm of the music still filling airwaves in the house. **Love. **

She left the doorway and slid into her partner, "Do require any help?"

"Nope, I got it. Christine, finally sleeping, huh?"

"Yes, I thought I might have to read another story." Brennan remarked seriously.

"The joys of parenting, Bones." Her partner chuckled. **Laughter. **

She moved around the living and dining rooms; gathering wayward wine glasses, tapas plates and whatever else left that was out of place. During this reception, Brennan had been watching her friends interact (because studying people is her thing) with feelings of admiration and respect. She had finally evolved into a person that understood the value of that kind of relationship. As she brought these items to Booth, she realized it was because of him. That was a part of love. **Friendship. **

The monitor crackled with sounds of a baby girl talking to herself. "So much for sleeping, little girl. You're mother will not pleased." Booth spoke to the window in front of the sink.

"I heard that, Booth."

"Me too. Christine is musing to herself. Perhaps, squint speak already."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Booth didn't answer, he just shook his head. His daughter is already the luckiest girl on the planet with a mother like Bones. Without even realizing it, he'd started on washing Christine's bottles. He couldn't think of anything else he'd rather be doing. There he was standing in the kitchen, the tie undone around his neck, his belt buckle unfastened, stripy socks covering his feet. He looked over at his partner, sashaying around as she gathered more items for him to wash.

Sure, it took them a long time to get to this place. A place, for time, that was taken away from him. But whatever the reasons, their love was stronger than anything that was thrown at them. After all, they were a family and that's all that mattered. **Purpose. **

Booth crept up behind his partner and wrapped his hand around her. He whispered in her ear, "May I have this dance?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She turned around the face him.

"It's only fair to have our first dance to this song, don't you think Bones?"

"We've danced before, Booth."

"Not like this." Booth leaned into kiss her.

Together, they held onto each other and just listened to the soulfulness of the singer coming from the speakers. Booth started to sing to her.

_Oh yeah yeah, and you smile, you smile_

_Oh, and then the spell was cast_

_And here we are in Heaven _

_For you are mine at last_

"Heaven, Booth?" She laughed.

"Call it what you want. I'm sticking with heaven."

"Of course, you are."

"Something else to disagree on."

"That's part of the fun."

At last. **A dance. **


	5. JMHaughey: Be on your side

Be On Your Side

**It's so hard for me  
Staying here all alone  
When you could be  
Taking me for a ride.**

- _Down By The River, _Neil Young

Everyday with the job, you never know what it will entail. In the line of work you chose, it is usually filled with dead bodies as a result of rage, jealously, pettiness and well, the list goes on. So, when this job directly effects you and the person you love the most, you automatically go into protection mode.

Right now, you are laying in your bed after a tumultuous day thinking of the squint, a mere kid, who lost his life. Yes, you are sad about that but you are grieving for her. With her. You reach your hand over to the other side of the bed. It's empty because you didn't invite your partner in. Of course, there were plenty of scenarios, plenty of ploys to ask her but you knew she would turn them down because she was rationally thinking about you. Your need for a quiet sleep so you could catch the bastard who decided to betray his country.

When the door creaks open, you sit up and grab your gun. For a moment, you forget someone is in the apartment with you. Maybe it is due to everything else swimming around your brain. Maybe it is because when you have guests they are usually sleeping next to you.

Your partner climbs into bed with you. Not the way you would have expected this to unfold. You kiss her forehead, trying to reassure her that things will get better. She gazes into your eyes, she knows you are telling the truth. You would not lie to her, especially not about something the important . She delicately traces your lips with hers. Almost testing the limits. You gently reach up and pull her head towards you. You kiss her something fierce. You never imagined this would be the outcome of the first time you made love to your partner.

In the morning, (actually, just a couple hours later) you wake up holding your partner. You do not want to move. You wish you could stay like this all day. You tell her that, but she informs you again that you have to kill someone today. You know that your rational partner is correct and it is best to get it done so no one else gets hurt.

Also, you know there is no turning back from this. Not that you want to but when you whisper that sentiment in your partner's ear she affirms your answer. You kiss her again.

Now, you are laying in bed for the first time since your partner left you. You and she have not spent a night apart in quite some time. Right now, you are so unsure when you will again.

You want to be mad. You want to scream. You want to break something. You want to drink an entire bottle of alcohol. That will not do any good right now. She left because it was the easiest thing to do. (More like the hardest.) You would have gone with her. Except that would not solve anything. You are needed here to clear her name. To get your family back.

You look to her side of the bed. You want to smell her pillow for her lingering scent. You want to sleep that side, you feel it will bring you closer. But it will not because she is not here and you are. Space.

For three months, you climb into an empty bed. Sometimes you think you feel her presence. You feel the brush of her hair against your chest, a sentimental whisper in the ear, a kiss on the forehead. But you know really, it is just a dream. You do not know where is she is but you know that she is probably wishing you were there to hold her in your arms. And for now, that is what you have.

It has been a week since your partner came back from being on the lam. The first few nights are awkward; tiptoeing around each other, holding your tongues for fear you may something truthful. You both climb into bed though you wonder if you should recuse yourself and sleep on the couch. You will not budge. You have thought about these moments for three months. You want it to go back to normal, whatever that may be. You have

You both refrained from the grasping each other, holding each other tight. You want to regain a sense a normalcy. This is the first night that your partner finds her way back into your arms. You are both actually sharing your side. You smell her hair, you kiss her forehead, you whisper to her. You pull her towards you. She looks into your eyes and gives her crooked smile. She burrows closer. A single small act of intimacy.

You look past her and see her side is empty because you are occupying the same space. And that is the way you hope it will always be.


	6. Jenlovesbones: The Policy of the

**The Policy of the Pineapple**

Dahling Ren… I am so proud that you are still a living, breathing person who survived university and will now turn her attentions to ruling the world or solving the mystery of why cats act the way they do. (It's entirely possible I just said the same thing twice.) Congratulations, friend. Here's some fluff. :)

Christine Booth is a very intelligent young woman. That's to be expected, one would suppose, when you have brilliant, kind and understanding parents like hers. At age 16, she takes university courses, far in advanced of most of her classmates. She excels at sports, always completes her homework on time, and then starts in on the extra credit after she helps complete chores around the house.

When you think about it, her parents are pretty lucky to have her for a daughter.

She recognizes that being raised by two top-notch investigators, her curiosity about the world and her propensity to solve mysteries is innate.

But there has always been one mystery she hasn't solved. And it bugs her. A lot.

So she stands in the driveway of her house, staring at her front door, wondering if she would ever understand it.

_(Nearly) seventeen years ago_

_She knew what he was doing. He didn't say anything. Or at least, he didn't say anything _to _her, directly. Not one word to her when he strolled in and kneeled to her side by the platform. And then he began to speak, but refused to acknowledge her. She moved to the other side of the table and he followed, continuing to speak._

"_And then, in Game 5 of the 1993 World Series, Shilling held the Toronto Blue Jays' offense, only giving up five hits and three walks during a complete game shutout that staved off elimination…"_

"_Booth!" Brennan shouted again for the third time, shouting loud enough that if there had been any lab employee not paying attention to the spectacle before, they certainly were now. "My office, now," she commanded, turning from him and walking down the steps._

"_What's the matter?" Booth asked innocently, standing up from his kneeling position and grabbing a bag from the floor before he followed her._

_She didn't speak until she was inside her office with the door closed. "Did you see where we were?" she gritted through her teeth._

"_Yeah… we were on the platform Bones," he answered slowly, pretending to wonder why she was asking._

"_And did you see what I was doing?" _

"_You were examining some muggle bones," he said with a shrug._

"_Mughal. Bones found in India that I believe date to the Mughal__ period. And muggle is not a real word."_

"_Yes it is," Booth said childishly, earning a glare from Brennan._

"_At the very least, you acknowledge that I was there, on the platform, in the lab, examining bones, correct?"_

_Booth shifted his eyes playfully as he considered her statement. "Yes, I acknowledge all of that," he conceded._

"_And yet you found that time, while I was working, to be an appropriate time to follow me around, _on your knees_ to talk to my stomach about trivial sports facts?"_

"_First, I was talking to our daughter, not any of your organs and second, you're not supposed work past 7 pm while nine months pregnant. We had an agreement."_

"_Booth…"_

"_And since you're not home, I'm not home," Booth said, crossing his arms, defensively._

"_All I needed was one hour to concentrate and approve Doctor Edison's findings. One hour. And that has turned into two hours with your hovering and I'm still not done yet," she shouted._

"_We had a deal…"_

"_I can take care of myself, Booth! And this find is important and I need to get ahead on my work before the baby comes. I'm fine and the baby is fine and you need to…"_

"_I don't care. You should be at home…"_

"_It's not going to hurt me or the baby for me to…"she said, stopping mid-speech as something caught her eye._

_They had been getting progressively louder with their shouting and a crowd of Squints still working late were watching them intently outside of her office. As Booth turned to see the crowd and the partners stared down the onlookers, they scattered._

"_We can't do keep doing this, Booth," Brennan sighed with frustration, taking the bag of food he was holding and turning to walk toward her desk._

"_Can't keep… doing what Bones?" he asked nervously._

"_Having these fights, of a personal nature, at work. At _my_ lab. How would you feel if I walked into your office and started yelling at you in front of other agents. Or if I crawled around your workplace, talking to your stomach."_

_Booth sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Well, I imagine you talking to my stomach would be a little tough to explain."_

_Brennan opened the bag of dinner he bought and found a fruit cup that she started nibbling from. Booth sat down across from her and slumped forward._

"_You know, it's pretty typical that we fight in the lab."_

"_You always say 'we don't fight, we bicker,'" she shot back. "And about cases. Not about… we should wait until we have privacy to discuss or _bicker_ about any personal issues."_

_Booth opened the container with his sandwich and grabbed it to take a bite. They both chewed in silence for a couple of minutes before Booth spoke up._

"_You know, I think we need a code word."_

"_Code word?" Brennan asked, brows furrowed._

"_Yeah, you know, something we say when we need to have a figh—bick —discussion."_

_She stuck her fork through the last piece of pineapple in her fruit cup and twirled her fork in her hand as she looked at him thoughtfully. "What word would we select…?"_

_**oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo**_

**Twelve years ago**

_Brennan paced around the kitchen, her hands full and her shoulder holding her phone to her ear. _

"_Hodgins, there must be some sort of chemical solution that gets paints out of this type of material… I feel safe in placing the blame solely on your wife… I didn't buy her permanent staining paints… She said she wanted to make them prettier for her Dad and that everything is art… I know that sounds like Angela… Hodgins! Stop babbling and tell me how to get paint out of baseballs! Without removing the signatures, preferably…"_

"_What happened to my… oh, God. Bones, what happened to my baseballs?"_

"_Oh… Hodgins. I have to go. Call me if you figure something out. Please," Brennan pleaded before hanging up, never taking her eyes off of Booth while he eyed the situation._

"_Booth, I am…"_

"_She painted my autographed baseballs… She… She…"_

"_I needed to reach the cabinet they were sitting in front of and I put them down on a lower shelf. I meant to move them back up, but I got a call and… I'm sorry, Booth."_

"_They're my… my autographed baseballs, Bones. My Joe... My Lenny Dykstra. And Greg Luzinski. And Tug McGraw."_

"_Hodgins is looking for a way to remove the stain Christine put on them… and if that doesn't work, I was thinking that many of these players are still living, and we could get them to sign new balls…" she stopped at his look of incredulity. _

"_Or re-sign these balls."_

_Booth choked out, "Tug McGraw is not with us anymore, Bones."_

_Brennan looked nearly ready to cry when she saw Christine move from behind her father's figure. "I'm really sorry I messed them up, Daddy," she said softly._

"_I'm sorry Booth…" Brennan added again. _

"_You know better, Christine…" Booth said harshly, and winced as he did it. _

"_Christine, I told you to go to your room. I'll come get you later," her mother lectured._

"_It's my fault Mommy. I don't want you to be in trouble," she said, and Brennan smiled, before nodding for her to go._

_They both listened to her loud steps through the house, up the stairs and heard her door slammed shut. _

_Brennan started and stopped, started and stopped again, while Booth just looked at the brightly colored baseballs on the counter. Finally, she walked to the refrigerator, opened the door, bent down, stood back up and walked to him quickly._

"_A pineapple?" he questioned._

"_I'm _really_ sorry."_

_Booth quirked his lips slightly, taking in her entire disheveled look and hands and arms stained in paint she'd obviously been trying to scrape off of the baseballs._

"_Thanks for my pineapple…"_

_Christine, still watching from her vantage point on the stairs, shook her head at her parents' silly ways before running into her room so she wasn't caught. _

_**oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo**_

**Five years ago**

_The car remained silent as Christine looked back and forth from her mother to her father, neither one speaking. Her father's fists clenched the steering wheel while her mother stared out of her window. _

"_So, I think I decided on my science project topic for this year," she said, breaking the silence._

_Her mother, slow to respond, was still faster than her father. "What area of research have you decided on?"_

"_Have you ever heard of street sponges?"_

"_You want to mix chemicals to absorb carbon dioxide?"_

"_It's been tried with caustic soda before, but I was thinking I could try a variety of mixtures with asphalt and see if any of them absorb the gas as a mixture."_

"_That's a very solid project, Christine," her mother said, and she beamed at her mother's approval._

"_What's a street sponge?"Booth asked._

"_It's an idea that a chemical interference in asphalt could absorb ground level gases and reduce air pollution," Christine explained._

_Noticing the pinchy look on Booth's face, Brennan whispered, "It's one of many theories about stopping the effects of auto emissions and other pollution close to ground levels for climate change."_

"_Oh, so now you're speaking to me?"Booth snarled._

_Brennan glared at him before muttering "Pineapple," and turning back to stare out the window._

_Christine looked back and forth between her parents again before breaking the silence once more._

"_So… which one of you did something wrong today?"_

_The partners looked guiltily at one another, before they faced forward._

"_Dad?" Christine asked, pausing to wait for an admission. Then she switched tactics. "Mom?"_

_After several more seconds of silence, she sighed dramatically. "Whatever you did, you should just apologize to each other now. You know you will anyway."_

_Brennan looked at Booth. Booth looked at Brennan. _

_Brennan leaned down to reach for something in her bag while Booth reached into his front pocket._

"_I'm sorry," they said simultaneously._

_He handed her a small can of pineapple rings. She reached and showed him the fresh container of diced pineapples she brought earlier that day for the inevitable apology. _

_They both chuckled at the gesture and Christine went back to reading her book, concluding once again that her parents were weird._

_**oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo**_

**One year ago**

"…_then Jenn said that Serena bumped her simultaneously while she was running and that's what caused her to trip and fall, missing her final goal. And Jenn used to go to Serena's school, and they were friends, so she is now trying to make us all mega-competi…" Christine stopped talking as she entered the kitchen with her Mom._

"_Uh-oh… what did Dad do now?" Christine asked as she looked around the room._

"_That's between your Dad and me," Brennan answered slowly, immediately working to catalog the number of pineapples that littered her kitchen. She quickly counted 12 before she turned to face her daughter, only to see another section of pineapples on the table behind her. _

"_Mom. This is a lot of pineapple. We're going to have to have a luau or something... I'm mean, pineapple is good and all, but I don't want to be eating it the rest of my life. Dad must have done something reeeeally…"_

_Brennan looked at her daughter thoughtfully for a moment, before she nodded and smiled. "Yes, Christine, I think you're right. We do need to have a party to use all of these pineapples before they spoil. Why don't you invite several of your friends over and your Dad can grill… any food that involves pineapples. I imagine kabobs will have a presence. This… Sunday, should work," Brennan said, pretending to think about, making Christine chuckle. "And the guest list is open to both your female and male friends."_

_Never one to let an opportunity pass her by, she hugged Brennan. "Girls and boys? Dad is so gonna… never mind. Thanks Mom!" Christine exclaimed and ran from the room to call her friends._

_Brennan could hear the front door open and Christine loudly greeting and thanking her Dad. As Brennan tried to find space for dozens of pineapples that would also allow her to cook dinner somewhere, Booth walked in to the kitchen, waiting for her to say something._

_When she continued to work without acknowledging him, he sighed and spoke first. "I'm sorry about last night."_

_Brennan quirked her lips, trying to school her features to not reveal that she was over the incident long before she saw the apology pineapples in her kitchen._

"_So you bought out a farmer's market's worth of produce to apologize with?"_

"_I figured this was one of those incidents that called for _a lot_ of apologizing. I'm still really, really sorry," he said, giving his best impression of a lovable puppy._

_Christine later learned that her Dad had been doing some kind of ridiculous gesticulating (he called it dancing, but when it came to her Dad's 'moves,' Christine sided with her Mom's description) on the platform at the lab. He had lost his balance and bumped into an exam table, which had the domino effect of sending three bones sailing, including a tibia dated from the twelfth Century, which shattered into hundreds of pieces her Mom had spent the better part of the night and the following day putting back together._

"_I forgive you Booth," she said._

"_Really?" he asked skeptically. "I've seen interns change their majors and move back home to their parents' house within seconds of doing something similar."_

"_Are you suggesting that I fire you because of your actions?"_

"_No… no…" he said, a little unsurely. Her anger last night boiled up into barely acknowledging his existence, much less speaking to him the rest of the night, this morning or when he brought her lunch that afternoon._

"_Then I suppose my only option is to forgive you. It's fine. I was able to reassemble all of the bones and perform an initial exam before I left to pick up Christine today. Also, while quite indulgent, the pineapples were a nice gesture."_

"_So we're good then?" he asked, stepping closer to her slowly, before finally pulling her into a hug._

"_We're good," she said reassuringly._

_She felt his sigh of relief as he hugged her tighter and she returned it until he let go. "Alright, I'm going to go change before I come help make dinner."_

_Brennan nodded as she turned back to the counter. "Oh, Booth?" she said, as he was exiting the kitchen and he popped his head back in._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Since we have all of these pineapples we need to consume, I told Christine she could have some of her friends over this Sunday and you could break out your tongs and grill for it."_

"_Ummm… aren't you going with Angela to that spa weekend thing?"_

"_That's right. I practically forgot," she said, not even feigning innocence. "But you'll be here this weekend, so it'll be fine."_

"_On Sunday?" he asked weakly._

"_Is that a problem?"_

"_Sunday… Stanley Cup Finals… Flyers could clinch the series with one more win…" he half-spoke, half-muttered, realizing his punishment for breaking her ancient bones had just been served. "Sounds good Bones. Happy to do it."_

_Brennan smiled sweetly at him and he grimaced back before leaving the kitchen. _

"_Oh, and I told her she could invite friends of both genders," she shouted after him._

_All Brennan heard was a long groan in return. _

_**oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo**_

Christine may not understand the power of the pineapple – and maybe she never would.

But that doesn't mean she is above using it to her benefit. Throughout her 16 (almost 17) years, she has witnessed many of her parents' fights, squabbles, arguments, disagreements – whatever they choose to call it – end with a pacifying pineapple or 40.

With one last glance at the brand new, electric-pole-shaped dent in her Dad's car's bumper, she clutches the pineapple she bought on the way home to her chest and walks inside her house to present it – and some car-related news – to her pineapple-loving parents.


	7. Laffers18: Every Moment A Lifetime

A/N: Ren, if your love of Doctor Who wasn't enough to earn my undying devotion, your ability to drink as much as I do definitely would! Big congratulations on the graduation from across the pond. I'll have a drink in your name to celebrate...such a hardship! Hope you like my little graduation present. Laffs

_**You're in love with Dr. Brennan.**_

It shouldn't have surprised him that she had the guts to say this to his face, but it does. She's his oldest friend, knows him almost as well as he knows himself and yet…it knocked him for six. He's so used to pretending to everyone else (and yes, sometimes even to himself) that he isn't desperately in love with his partner, that he doesn't quite know how to react when someone says what everyone has known for years. He's in love with his partner. He's in love with his strong headed, independent, genius, 'doesn't believe in love' partner.

_**Right, right yeah, and uh tell Bones how I feel.**_

His response to her statement makes him laugh, even now, because he made it sound so _easy_. As if all he needed to do was walk up to her, tell her he loved her and they would walk off into the sunset together. As if they would live happily ever after, just like that. Except…he and his partner never did anything the easy way. Simple may as well have been a foreign word to them both because nothing in their lives had ever been simple. On those rare occasions when he allowed himself to think about a future together, he feared that they were so used to things being gut wrenchingly hard, that if something were simple they would mistrust the outcome. That they couldn't allow themselves to just…be happy.

_**That I love you. In a professional you know atta-girl kinda way.**_

He still can't think of that moment without wincing. Of all the ways he had envisioned revealing his feelings for her, standing in the middle of the street had not been one of them. It was just that, walking with her, being with her…he couldn't help himself. His mind drifted back to the dream that had felt so real, and a world where everything came so easily for them. He could say I love you knowing he would hear the same words whispered back to him.

But then she looked at him with that deer in the headlights look and he panicked. The possibility of rejection froze him in place, and instead of staying true to himself he backtracked in a desperate attempt to protect himself.

He could forgive himself for that, maybe, if he hadn't known the exact reason for her panic. She'd just watched him laughing and joking with the thing he used to fear, why would she trust anything he had to say?

_**This all works out eventually.**_

If you'd told him before that moment that he would cling to the declaration of a self-professed psychic, he'd have dismissed you out of hand. But in that one moment, he wanted her to be right. Needed her to be, if he was honest with himself. The idea that, eventually they would get it right (_he_ would get it right) was a heady one, one he was ready to cling to even as he told himself not to be foolish.

From that point on, he couldn't prevent the idea of 'them' from running through his mind at the most inappropriate times. Wondering how, when, why. He even started to fantasise about all the different scenarios that could lead to him getting everything he had ever wanted. He couldn't admit that was what he was doing, not at the beginning, but with a little help from a chef he eventually acknowledged the truth.

_**You're building a world around her, a family. **_

He _was_ planning how to tell her he loved her. Truth and honesty, no rushed declarations, no immediate qualifications. He even settled on a place, eventually. It wasn't the most traditional of venues, but then again their partnership had always been as far away from traditional as you could get. And it was perfect for them. It was neither his place, nor hers; it was theirs.

The problem, however, is that life has its own way of ruining even the best laid plans. For all your planning, for the time you spend waiting for the perfect moment, one small moment can bring all that crashing down around you.

_**One of you has to have the courage to break this stalemate.**_

He had a plan._ He had a plan._ And then…he didn't.

_**It's gotta be you because you're the gambler. For once, make that work for you.**_

One sentence. That was all it took for him to forget everything he knew about himself, and his partner. That was all it took for him throw all his plans out of the window, and jump in feet first. He couldn't say he was surprised at the outcome, not if he was really honest with himself. But that didn't make the pain any less, the heart ache any easier to bear. Hope is a miraculous thing, and when hope is gone what is left?

It wasn't until months later that he realised just how hard he had clung to that hope, and just how lost he became without it.

In his darkest moments, the weeks and months spent trying to pretend that he could see her everyday and still move on without her, he clung to one memory. The one moment that he couldn't quite let go of, regardless of how ridiculous it was.

_**This all works out eventually.**_

The day he raced to the airport, dressed in his fatigues in the hopes of catching her before she left, he remembered this. And he prayed she was right.


	8. ProfeJMarie: I've Got Your Back

_**A/N: **I'm not one to usually go back in time to write a story, but I got an idea and this is what came of it. I hope it works for things that talented writer sunsetdreamer enjoys in her Bones fics. :D Happy graduation! Also, thanks to OwlStory for the Egyptian cultural facts. ~ Janet/ProfeJMarie_

_**I've Got Your Back**_

_Parker reminds Booth that partners always have each other's back. Set between S7 and S8._

It had just been a homework question.

Booth didn't have Parker as often during the week, but Rebecca had thought it might be good for him to have his son to hold onto while Brennan and Christine were away. "Away" was Rebecca's word for it. He accepted the euphemism and he welcomed the extra time with his son. With Parker he remembered there were reasons to smile. God, he was such a great kid. There were baseball games, tossing the football around, watching classic movies together like _The Sandlot_, and hearing all about the pranks he and his friends played on each other at school.

Tonight they made homemade pizza together and started some advance planning for their fantasy football teams while downing bottles of root beer. After clearing the table, Parker settled in with his homework and Booth pulled out his current Brennan read. Sometimes he liked to imagine her reading it to him; he always appreciated how she would explain things to him without making him feel stupid. He read for a while, then paused to look up and stare at nothing in particular as he tried to process a section he didn't yet fully understand. He often kept the laptop next to him so that he could look something up if he got really stumped.

Parker was using it now, pencil in his mouth as he two-finger typed whatever it was he was searching for. Booth glanced over to find out the topic of his worksheet. Egyptian cultural practices. "Explore: Find an Egyptian social practice to compare with a related U.S. custom past or present." _Bones would have all kinds of ideas to help Parker with that one,_ Booth thought.

"Dad, did you know that a woman in Egypt could get a divorce just by moving out of the house?"

"Sounds easier than getting all the lawyers involved, that's for sure."

"Bones doesn't believe in marriage, right?"

Booth chuckled in surprise. "Yeah, that's right. How did you know that?"

"I asked her one day if you guys were gonna get married sometime. She said she didn't believe a piece of paper was a logical reflection of the commitment two people have for one another."

Booth smiled at Parker's quote. "What do you think about that?"

He shrugged. "I think she's probably right. Parents get divorced all of the time, so what's the point of the piece of paper if you can just get rid of it later? It doesn't seem like it makes people any more likely to stay together."

Booth debated how to approach his son on the topic. On one hand, Parker and Brennan were both completely right – some people treated marriage like it was just a status message. On the other, Booth obviously didn't feel that way. Before he could respond, though, Parker threw out his own curve ball.

"Do you think the Egyptians felt that if the woman moved out of the house with the kids that they were divorced from their dad, too?"

"What? No. It doesn't work that way."

"Maybe it does. It kind of works that way here."

He wasn't sure he wanted to know what Parker meant, but forced himself to ask, anyway. "What do you mean?"

"Kids hardly ever live with their dads and have weekends with their moms. Josh lives with his mom and only sees his dad a couple of weekends a month. Mark's dad doesn't even live near enough for him to visit a lot. Why don't they live with their dads? Even Bones took Christine with her when she left instead of leaving her with you."

Booth froze at Parker's unintentionally painful observation. Was the hidden question actually asking why the mother of his children didn't trust his ability to care for them and protect them? Did Parker doubt this? Somewhere in his heart he knew this probably wasn't true. Parker knew he could count on him.

After a few moments, Booth noticed that Parker hadn't really waited for an answer and was copying down information he found on the Internet into his notes. Booth looked away and back at the book in his hand, realizing that he had long since let it fall to the table and close. His hands shook now as he tried to share his thoughts with Parker, even though he hadn't demanded an answer.

"Kids, you know, they have this special bond with their moms, right? And Christine, well, she's still just a baby, and babies especially like to be with their moms."

"I guess," Parker said. "I think you would have done okay with her, though. And it'd be easier for Bones to stay hidden without her though, wouldn't it?"

_Please stop reminding me of all the arguments I already had with myself about this,_ Booth pleaded silently. "Maybe. But maybe she'd miss her too much, you know? I mean, at least I've still got you here, right?" He gave him a weak smile.

"Yeah," Parker smiled back. "I've got your back, Dad."

Who knew that hearing such words from his son could be so reassuring? He bumped Parker's fist and stood to take care of the dishes they'd left in the sink while Parker finished his homework. They went through the bedtime routine together – changing and brushing teeth. It was about thirty minutes past when Booth expected Parker to be asleep when his son came downstairs.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Want to stay in my room tonight?"

"Bad dream?"

"Nah, I just figured I could keep you company. I don't want you to be sad and lonely here in the living room. You can sleep in my bed and I'll use my sleeping bag on the floor."

When had Booth become so transparent that his son could figure out how much he didn't want to sleep in the bed he and Brennan usually shared? Parker's offer invited a warmth into his heart that almost made him tear up. "Yeah, buddy. I'd like that. Thanks." He grabbed his pillow and followed Parker back upstairs.

"You should just always sleep in my room, Dad. Even when I'm at Mom's. Then you'll always see that my stuff is still here."

"You're not going to move out and divorce me?" Booth smirked.

"No way."

"Because you've got my back?"

"Right. You and me, Dad. We're partners, right?"

A bit more of his heart opened up again. He ruffled his kid's hair. "Yeah, buddy, we are. No matter what."


	9. Razztastic: Research

_AN: I was thrilled beyond measure when Rosita asked if I wanted to contribute a fic to the collection she was putting together in honor of sunsetdreamer's graduation. What an honor to be included, especially for such a great cause! Congratulations, Ren, and may all of your research now be for fun! :-)_

_Let's set this soon after _The Change in the Game.

_(Thanks very much to Alanna1231 and penandra for the beta work. You guys are the super awesomest!)_

_._

_._

_._

Booth was comfortably ensconced on the sofa, remote control in hand, when the sudden silence coming from Brennan's place at the narrow bar in his small kitchen caught his attention. He looked up to find her staring at him thoughtfully, hands poised above her laptop.

"What?"

She slipped off the chair and crossed the room to his side. Sitting so that her torso faced his, she leaned across his chest.

"I would like you to kiss me."

He tossed the remote aside. "Okay." Temperance Brennan, he had discovered, was as direct about sex as she was about everything else and as he was now the lucky beneficiary of that directness, he was more than happy to adjust his plans accordingly. Obliging her request, he spread his hands across the softness of her back and drew her in close.

Sparks flew immediately. The low hum of her approving murmur vibrated through both of them as her lips parted at the first brush of his tongue against hers. His arms tightened, hers slipped over his shoulders as she pressed against the hard muscles of his chest. Gradually, as the kiss deepened and heat rose in waves between them, he lowered her back against the arm of the couch until she was half lying across his lap.

"This doesn't work," Brennan muttered between kisses.

"It's working for me," he smiled against her skin as he bit gently beneath her jaw.

"No, Booth . . ." She sat up abruptly and then just as quickly straddled him, one knee lodged between his thigh and the edge of the sofa.

He groaned as she rotated against the erection straining the zipper of his jeans. "Yea, that's better . . . Jesus, Bones!" His fingers bit into her hips before he roughly pushed his hands beneath the loose cotton t-shirt she wore. He was just fitting the lush swell of her breasts into his palms when she dropped a quick kiss on his forehead and pulled away.

"Yes, that was much better. Thank you!"

It took a few seconds before his lust-fogged brain registered her sudden absence. By the time he blinked the haze away, she was back in the chair, her fingers once again flying over the keyboard of her laptop.

"Wha . . . Hey!" The sound of tapping continued without ceasing. "Hey!" Booth raised his voice. "What was that all about?"

Brennan's eyes were focused on the words appearing on her screen. "I needed to confirm the choreography of this scene." She flashed a look in his direction. "Thank you for your assistance," she added, her tone distracted as she backspaced and retyped.

"Confirm . . . choreography . . ." Flabbergasted, Booth stared at her while he rubbed the heel of one hand over his still engorged penis. "That was research!?" His tone betrayed his outrage.

"Yes." Her nails clicked across the keys. "In the past, I would have phoned Angela with that type of inquiry but," she continued blithely as she offered him a brilliant smile, "now I have you."

When she turned back to her computer, he huffed in disbelief and looked down at his lap. "Well, aren't we the lucky ones," he muttered to his zipper. He had just picked up the remote again when Brennan closed her laptop with a snap.

She paused in the hallway leading to the bedroom. "Booth?" She looked at him expectantly. "Don't you want to have intercourse?" With one smooth movement, she lifted her arms high overhead and removed her shirt.

Booth stared at her, mouth open.

Arms bent behind her back, she hesitated before taking off her bra. "Unless you don't want to-"

"Yes!" Booth was off the couch immediately. "I was just making sure this wasn't more research," he commented snidely as he stripped off his own t-shirt.

"Don't be silly." She let her bra fall to the floor. "I'm familiar with the mechanics of sexual congress."

"But . . . you just . . . I was . . . you said . . ." Booth stuttered his way down the hallway as clothes fell to the floor behind them. When she turned in the doorway, wearing nothing but a twinkle that told him she knew exactly what she'd done, he laughed unwillingly. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Her answer was a shrug as she backed away from him.

The heat in his brown eyes promised a sultry revenge. "Yea? Well, let's see what you do with this scene . . . "


	10. RositaLG: Burning For You

**A/N: My turn! My chapter was not a surprise, because hiding smutty fic from your best friend goes against the code. What code, you ask? THE code. **

**Deeeaaarrr Ren: Congratulations! I am so proud of you. Also, selfishly, I am very glad to have more of your time to monopolize. So keep an eye on that southern horizon; you never know when I will sneak across the border and show up on your doorstep. **

**OOOOO**

When Booth came waltzing into his partner's office at two in the afternoon, Brennan glanced up from her computer, expecting a case.

"No." She begged, shaking her head.

"No, what?" He asked.

"I am very busy today. I don't have time to go out into the field."

"I'm not here about a case." He said with a smile.

"Then why are you here?" She asked, suddenly worried.

"I left work early." He said with a calming smile. "Come play hooky with me." He requested.

"Did you not hear what I just said?" She asked as she went back to her work. "I am very busy."

"Bones…" He whined. "It's the first real day of spring. We should be outside, walking around the Mall, or you know, relieving some of your stress." He waggled his eyebrows. "Not cooped up in your office."

"Well, I will be here until seven. What you do with your free time until then is up to you." She informed him. He sighed in frustration as he collapsed on her couch.

"No." She said again, disapproving of his current location. He was not staying here.

"Wha…?" He began as Brennan gave him a stare. "I am just going to sit here for a minute while I make a plan." He defended. "I won't even make noise." He promised. "I'll be as quiet as Stanley." He said with a motion towards the iguana's tank. "You won't even know that I'm here."

"Why do I highly doubt that?" She muttered. She loved him, but the man wouldn't be quiet if he were dead. However, she went back to typing furiously at her computer, hoping she was wrong. Sure enough, Booth lasted only a few seconds before he was rhythmically tapping his fingers on the arm of her couch. Brennan sighed dramatically as she gave him a pointed look. Booth got the message.

"Fine." He said, standing up. "I'll see you tonight." He walked over and gave her a kiss before showing himself out. Brennan felt a momentary pang of guilt as she watched him go but as she looked down at her workload again, the feeling disappeared.

OOOOO

Brennan made her way up the front steps in the twilight. She had promised him seven, and it was only 6:30. She really did feel bad about kicking him out earlier. She opened the door and spotted him in the kitchen, leaning into the oven. He pulled something out and let it rest on the stove top.

"Smells good." She commented and he jumped, pushing his thumb directly against the hot pan.

"Ow!" He cried as he lifted his hand off the range. "Son of a…" Brennan winced as he turned off the oven.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." She said.

"You're early." Booth groaned as he hurried to turn on the sink and run his sizzling hand under the cold water.

"You were making dinner?" She realized as she inventoried the mess in the kitchen. Booth didn't respond. "Here, let me take a look." She offered as she made her way over to the sink.

"No, Bones. I got it." He backed away from her, not wanting to relive the experience a second time.

"Will you just hold still?" Brennan asked as she examined his wound. "I can't get a look at it when you are wiggling."

"Bones, I'm trying, but it burns." Booth said. "It's why they call it a burn to begin with." He added facetiously as she twisted his wrist closer to the light.

"You really should have been wearing protection." She added as she reached under the sink for the aloe vera.

"Well, I wasn't exactly planning on sticking the base of my thumb against the 350 degree pan." He argued. "But thank you for that advice." She sat him down and managed to apply a thin layer of gel to his burn despite his constant moving and she blew lightly on his upturned palm.

"Let that dry." She commanded. He mumbled something in response, still upset by the events of the past five minutes. Brennan watched as her partner pouted at the kitchen table and shook her head.

"Sometimes, it's hard to tell where you stop and your daughter begins." She said as she set the aloe down on the counter and faced him. "You have the same pout."

"It hurts." He defended, not saying another word.

"Would you like me to kiss it and make it better?" She patronized him, knowing that was how he solved all of Christine's perceived ills. She expected a roll of his eyes, but he surprised her with a pathetic nod of his head. He offered her his hand and she grabbed his fingers. Careful to avoid the burn, she kissed his tattoo at the base of his hand affectionately. "All better." She informed him. Booth's eyes grew dark and he shifted in his seat, becoming more aroused than comforted by her action. His face remained stoic but there was a playful light in his eyes as he offered her his other wrist. Never one to back down from a challenge, Brennan placed a wet, open mouthed kiss on his wrist, tracing the ink of his other tattoo lightly with her tongue. She watched as he closed his eyes and gulped, his erection tenting his jeans. Brennan licked her lips in response and found herself wanting to taste more of him, all of him.

"Christine's at the Hodgins' house for the night." Booth mentioned, reading her mind.

"Then let me make it up to you." She whispered, her own voice suggesting that she would make it worth his while. He nodded and Brennan slowly pulled him up out of his chair. She kept him close and she could feel his quiet, unresolved tension behind her as she led the way towards their bedroom.

She stopped at the foot of their bed and turned to face him. Their eyes met in a smoldering connection before she rolled onto her toes to kiss him slowly. They melted into each other as Brennan's hands found the hem of his t-shirt and ran over the skin on his back. He grinned against her mouth as he pulled away so she could lift the shirt completely off. She clung to him as she took his earlobe into her mouth and kissed her way down his jaw and neck. Brennan pressed him down onto the bed as she settled between his legs, rubbing herself against his jeans as she slid down his body to kiss his chest. Her trail of kisses covered every inch of his pecs as she relished the delicious flavor of his smooth skin.

"Bones…" Booth murmured his surprised approval as his good hand weaved its way into her hair.

"I want to taste all of you." She whispered against his skin. "Every. Single. Inch." She purred as she kissed her way down his abs. She unbuttoned his jeans and his hips leapt off the bed to assist her as she finished undressing him and then herself. She returned to him, hovering her mouth above his freed erection. Booth locked eyes with her and made it clear that he wanted her to end the game. Still, she wanted to keep her promise. Making up her mind, she kissed his hip bone instead. Booth produced a choked sigh in protest and she smirked against his thigh. His hand fell from her hair as she trailed down his inner leg and it wasn't long before he was palming his strained erection, desperate for release. Brennan wasn't having it. She stopped kissing him and she swatted his hand away.

"Mine." She said with an arch of her eyebrow. He looked pointedly at her and she had to smile. She gave in and wrapped her lips around his shaft.

"Oh God yes…" He moaned in relief as her tongue danced around him. His hand locked into her hair again as he thrust into her mouth. "Oh shit, Bones." He croaked. "Oh, just like that. Don't stop." He begged, but she had no intention of quitting. Her own desire coated her thighs as he came undone, losing himself within her. She watched the trembling man in front of her with a mix of smug satisfaction and pulsating need.

He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at her with sated eyes. She bit her lip, trying not to come from the sight but she was already so close to breaking, anything might set her off. He shook his head as she crawled up towards him again.

"There are no words." He murmured as he rolled over on top of her. His fingers stroked lazily between her thighs and she widened her legs in response. "Bones, you must be vibrating." He realized as her entire body tensed at his actions.

"My turn to burn." She answered, her voice low and deep. Booth's eyes went charcoal black before sliding down her body and burying his face between her legs.

"Mmmm!" She bit back her gasp as his mouth met her aching flesh. Her entire body was already on fire and she knew it wouldn't be long before she was falling apart. She panted in time with his tongue as her body fell into a natural rhythm. She reached above her, clinging to the headboard as she fought the inevitable but she exploded under his lips. When the last of her tremors abated, she opened her eyes to find Booth staring at her.

"You're gorgeous." He whispered, kissing her stomach as he made his way back up her body. She knew his look well by now, but there was still only one word to describe it: dazzled. She placed her hand on the side of his face and looked deep into his eyes.

"I love you." She told him, wanting him to really listen to her. "I always will."

"I know." He said.

"We own a house. We have a daughter together who is nearly three."

"I know." He smiled as he propped himself up on his elbow beside her, his fist resting under his temple.

"So why do you still look at me like this is all some sort of dream that you're about to wake up from?" She asked.

"Because you love me, and you always will." He said, his free hand reaching across her body to steal her hand and weave their fingers together. "Because we own a _house_ together." He said as if he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. "And because we have a daughter, with your blue eyes and my charm smile, who is nearly three." Brennan smiled at his answer. "It's an amazing thing, Bones. So I will always be amazed."

"And dazzled?" She inquired. He furrowed his eyebrows in curious amusement at her word choice but played along. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Always." He assured her.


	11. Some1TookMyName: The Map of Us

_**For Ren, one of my most favorite big time graduates, ever. I'm so proud of you. You've worked hard. The least I could do was write you a story. Congrats, Friend. Well done.**_

_**.**_

_**The Map of Us**_

_We discover as we go_

_All the things we couldn't know._

_We may laugh and cry and fuss_

_But this is the map of us._

_._

"_The more things change, the more they stay the same."_

Brennan has never understood that saying. It makes no sense. If things change, they cannot stay the same, as well. It's simple logic. And if things change more than ever before, then those things are LESS the same, not more.

She hates that phrase.

And yet…

She is finding that in some ways there is a sense of accuracy to it.

Things are very different. She can kiss Booth, and does so, whenever she wants. He sleeps in her bed, she sleeps in his. He makes her breakfast, she makes sure there is coffee for him when he stumbles blindly into the kitchen. He has soap in her shower, she has a toothbrush at his apartment and she is getting used to the fact that sometimes the roll of toilet paper in her bathroom will be put on wrong.

They have sex.

Very good sex.

A lot.

Her stomach is beginning to round. Of all the things that are different, the fact that they are going to have a baby together is the most different thing of all.

She is quite sure she has never been happier.

Being thoroughly happy is different, too.

Change is not something she's ever been especially fond of or adept at, so while she is happy about all these new differences, she is equally glad that some things have stayed the same.

They are still working together and solving cases better than anyone else in the FBI. They eat at the diner and drink at The Founding Fathers (she has water, mostly, but it's close enough.) He continues to teach her pop culture while she continues to teach him all things scientific. He still nags her about eating (although the reasons for the nagging are different, the nagging is the same) and she still doesn't believe in gut instincts.

Or fate.

And they still bicker.

A lot.

They bicker about facts versus instinct, about guesses versus logic. They still don't agree on religion or the importance of remembering every cop, firefighter, crime scene tech they come across. They bicker about food, his eating habits in particular, and he still doesn't understand the point of the metric system. Sweets is still a point of contention at least once a week (usually after their mandatory therapy) and they will never, ever not bicker about whom is more right about any given topic.

She's grateful for that. It's the way things have been for seven years and she doesn't want it to change. She likes who they have always been and has found that integrating the new aspects of their relationship into their old relationship has been easier than she thought.

Work is work and home is home and they are Them in all the very best ways.

**B&B**

Booth is well aware that they are in what most would call "The Honeymoon Period."

He just can't bring himself to care.

Being with her, being together, is all he's wanted for so long, that he's completely blown away by his new reality.

It's been seamless, really, the transition from them into Them. He can kiss her whenever he wants, and does so, quite frequently. He has suits in her closet, she has skirts in his. He stocks granola in his pantry and she has oatmeal at her apartment. She has a razor at his place and he has one at hers and not only is he getting used to the fact that sometimes the toilet paper in his bathroom is hung the wrong way, it actually makes him smile when he sees it.

They make love.

Beautiful, perfect, amazing love.

A lot.

Her pregnancy is beginning to show. Of all the things that have changed, having a baby is the biggest and the most awe-inspiring. He notes the changes in her body and can't believe how lucky he is, how far they've come and how wonderfully it all just _works._

He chalks a lot of this up to the fact that work has not changed. At work, they are still exactly who they have always been and he likes that. They still grab lunch at the diner and celebratory drinks at the Founding Fathers (even if she only has water, most times.) He still tries to get her to speak English, and she keeps right on talking Squint. He plays hunches and if he's lucky, she will occasionally allow for an intuitive leap, but will always try for a logical conclusion. Their solve rate continues to be the best.

They still bicker.

A lot.

They bicker about anthropological significance (because she can apply anthropology to everything and that still drives him crazy sometimes) and religion. They don't agree on her carrying a gun, and he still won't let her drive. They don't see eye to eye after their mandatory therapy and they still bicker about going with his gut. He still believes that everything happens eventually and she will never, ever believe in fate.

And he always will.

He is giddy about all of it. He likes who they've been for the past seven years (mostly) and he's happy that the fundamentals haven't change.

They are who they are, even with the new stuff. He pushes aside the Honeymoon Phase idea and laughs when Cam says he is practically floating on a cloud of happy. New is great, Old is perfect and they are Them and it's all he could ever have hoped for.

But it's a Friday, just like any other Friday, that things take a turn in a new direction; a point where Old meets New and they find that perhaps the way they've been since they've been Together, isn't the way things are always going to be. That Before seeps into Now and The Same seeps into The Different and what they are, and how they are and who they are isn't entirely set in stone.

**B&B**

She comes to bring him a file and, to her confusion, his office is locked up tight.

She would never have considered that a blow to her happiness would come from Charlie, until it does.

"He had to question a witness. Took Dr. Sweets with him."

Booth has left her behind. He's gone to do their job and left her behind.

She's furious. Furious enough to slide the file under his door and go home.

To her place.

Even though they are supposed to be at his.

If he can make arbitrary decisions about their partnership at work, then she can make arbitrary decisions, too.

**B&B**

If he's honest with himself, he knows she is probably aware that he went to question a witness without her.

She has to be. She doesn't answer her phone, she's not at the lab, the file from their last case is on the floor in his office and when he gets to his apartment, she isn't there.

But she is at her place.

He lets himself in and doesn't say a word about equal time or where they are supposed to be on this particular night, mostly because he'd like to believe that everything is fine. Surely if it wasn't, she would say so.

So when she doesn't, he settles into the kitchen and makes dinner and pretends that the conversation isn't stilted and there isn't _something_ weird in the air.

Everything is fine.

Perhaps if he believes that hard enough, it will be true.

**B&B**

It starts with underwear.

Of course, _it _doesn't really start with underwear, but that's what _she_ starts with.

"You left your underwear on the floor," she says, emerging from the bedroom.

He raises one eyebrow. "You weren't complaining when I took them off." He grins in that way that she usually allows to charm her.

But not today. "It's irritating."

"Well, that's how gravity works. I take them off, they fall to the floor."

"Gravity is not responsible for you leaving them there for three days."

"We've been at my place since Tuesday," he defends.

"And yet, we're here now. You've changed out of your work clothes; you've been in the bedroom. However, the underwear remains on the floor."

"Uh…sorry?"

"Don't be sorry, just be tidy," she snaps. "This isn't your apartment where you can do things your way. This is my apartment and I prefer it to be neat."

He decides she is not the only one who gets to be snappish.

"Why are we here, anyway?"

"Excuse me?"

"Aren't we supposed to be at my place?"

"I wanted to be here." She lifts her chin stubbornly.

"I think…" he hesitates before continuing on. "I think this might be something we should talk about."

"Your lack of tidiness?"

"No. Our living situation."

"Our living situation is just fine."

"My apartment, your apartment. Seems kind of stupid." He shrugs. "What about one place?"

"That would be unwise."

"Why?"

"Because, Booth, everyone needs space of their own."

"I disagree."

"I have my place, you have your place. It works perfectly. There is nothing to discuss."

"We can't live like this when the baby comes."

"Why not? Infants are small and quite portable," she says, logically

"It's not good for us or the baby."

"We agreed that things didn't have to change."

"Maybe we were wrong about that."

"So you have arbitrarily decided that things do need to change." She isn't asking, but he misses that.

"Not arbitrarily. I'm trying to discuss it with you, now."

"You went out with Sweets today. You went to question a witness without me. That's an arbitrary change."

He's been called on the carpet and there is nothing to do but confess. "Yeah. I did."

"So you get to decide, then, how this works? You get to choose when to change?"

"It was dangerous."

"That's never been an issue before. I've always gone with you."

"I know, Bones, but—"

"But what? You know best? You know what's good for me?"

"In this case, yes. I thought it was best that you didn't come. The guy has a hair trigger temper and an arsenal to go with it. It wasn't safe."

"That is not your decision."

"It's my job to protect you. Always has been. That hasn't changed."

"But it has. You used to want me with you for these kinds of things. You used to want me as your partner!"

"I still want you as my partner—"

"Then you should treat me as you always have."

He isn't sitting calmly anymore. He's up and pacing as she stands her ground, anger rooting her to the spot. "You are marginalizing me because of the pregnancy." Her voice is bitter, her brow furrowed in anger.

But he is bitter, too. "And you are marginalizing your pregnancy. He was dangerous, Bones, okay? It wasn't safe for you to be there and yes, that is my call. You are not an FBI agent, you're a civilian with an association with the FBI. A pregnant civilian."

"So you don't want me as your partner anymore." Her voice is so cold it feels as if the temperature in the room drops by ten degrees.

"That is not true."

"No? You deliberately left me behind today. There is nothing partner-like about that."

"Maybe it's _you _who doesn't want _me_ as _your_ partner. Because as soon as you got pissed you ran back here to avoid me, back to your hidey hole of tidiness. And then you got even more pissed when you found out you can't run away from me that easily. Maybe you only want to do this your way. And let me tell you, Bones, that's now how relationships work!"

"Because you're such an expert? Tell me Booth, which of your past girlfriends taught you how relationships work? Rebecca? Because that didn't seem to work so well. Maybe Tessa? Except no, because she wouldn't even go on vacation with you. Or maybe it was Hannah. After all, it clearly worked so well that she turned down your proposal. So explain to me again why you think you get to tell me how this works."

"And you've what? Read books on the subject? Because I'm pretty sure a few months with Sully and sleeping with your college professor don't add up to being a pro either."

The look that crosses her faces for a split second causes him instant guilt and regret, because in a flash of pain and truth he can see that she _has_ read a book, or knowing her, books and he decides he is an ass.

She has been charting unfamiliar territory and he's been acting like he has all the answers, when really, she is right. A successful, long term, forever relationship is not something he knows anything about. And he wants nothing less than forever with her.

"Maybe you should go," she whispers and it jolts him. Hard.

But he won't be another person who turns his back on her and walks away. Not even for a minute.

"No."

She opens her mouth to argue, then closes it with an audible click of her teeth. She turns on her heel to walk away from him, then, and though he wants to catch her arm and stop her, that's too much like what his father used to do right before he left finger-sized bruises on his mother's skin.

He won't be that guy, either. Won't even come close.

So he talks.

"I want you as my partner."

She stops halfway to her bedroom, the huffy stalk-off turning into a motionless stand-still.

He takes a deep breath. "What happened today was because of that. Because more than wanting you as my partner, I want you as my _partner, _and I was afraid of losing that to a crazy man with an arsenal."

She doesn't turn around, but she doesn't walk on, so he knows she is listening.

"Things have changed. There is so much for me to lose that just thinking about it makes me feel sick." He takes a deep breath. "It's 30 or 40 or 50 years, Bones. That's what this is. I know it. And the idea that our time together could have been over by dinner today?" He shook his head. "I couldn't risk it. And maybe I handled it wrong and yes, I could have done it better, but you know what? You're right. I don't always know what I'm doing here, either. And I'm going to make mistakes. We both are."

He steps closer, but she still doesn't turn. "This isn't about underwear on the floor. It isn't about not taking you with me today and it's not about moving in together."

He can see her bristle but he steps right behind her now, so close he's nearly touching her.

But he doesn't.

"This is about being more than the sum of our mistakes."

In wordless concession, she leans back into him slightly, drawing their bodies together, and he angles his face into her hair and whispers, "I'm sorry."

He can see her eyelashes flutter shut, feel her take a deep breath. "I did read a book," she confesses and he chuckles slightly.

"Just one?"

"No," she sniffs. "Four. They were all quite contradictory."

"I'm not sure that what we are can be defined by a book."

She turns to him, now and automatically he finds his arms around her, her hands pinned between them, resting on his chest. "They did all say that we have to talk to one another. Communication is key."

"I should have called you." He admits.

"And I should have gone to your place."

He smiles. "I do still want one place."

"I know."

"But I can wait."

"Yeah?"

"You have always been worth the wait, Bones."

She kisses him then, soft and sweet and far too short for his liking. "You still shouldn't leave your underwear on the floor."

"And you still shouldn't be in situations that can get you killed." _He_ kisses _her_ now.

"I'll work on accepting some new definitions of our work together."

"And I'll work on the underwear."

She grins. "Maybe you could start working on it now." She kisses him again, her hands traveling from his chest to his waistband.

"Sure." He laughs against her mouth, and starts walking her backwards towards the bedroom. "I'll do my best to get it in the general direction of the hamper."

"Booth!" She mock protests, but she laughs too.

Because the road is long with many turns, and there is no roadmap for them to follow.

But they are more than they have ever been before and they will make their own way, one step at a time. Side by side.

And they are happy.


	12. Tadpole24: Running is More Than Just a

There's something different in the way he moves now.

She and Christine have been back for a while now, but he still moves with a worried glide. He always walks ahead of her to their bedroom at night, his feet guiding him in a kind of Weaver stance. If he kept his gun on him inside the house, she was sure that he'd be carrying that as well.

She isn't naïve to the damage she's caused in her actions. She never thought that it would all go back to how it was as soon as she was home. But seeing the man she loves, the strongest person she knows, fearful in their own home makes her want to cry out in frustration.

Pelant has torn something from their lives that they won't ever get back. He has taken a part of their relationship and turned it into something entirely his own. They have built trust for years; trust in the two of them as the centre around which everything else holds its place, as long as they do. Booth and Brennan are the solid ones.

But in a fleeting decision, that trust became insecurity. Because she always runs; because he gets angry. Each of them was fearful for how it would turn out and in all honesty, that may have played a minute part in why they stayed away from each other for so long.

But she is home now and she can see how much it's affected him. She worries for him. She worries for them. They're a family, but it's not lost on her that there are so many insignificant arguments between them that don't need to happen. She knows Christine won't like the carousel, she knows Christine won't like eating banana, she knows that if she holds her daughter in a certain way she will stop crying. And she wishes Booth would just trust her.

But then she can see the looks he gives her and can tell that he just wants her to trust him as well.

So she tries.

They go to the carousel. Christine hates it, but Booth smiles.

They feed Christine banana. She spits it out and they end up feeding her pureed apple.

Booth picks Christine up when she cries and she keeps crying. But eventually she warms to his touch and her cries calm.

She can see that it's helping him, that she's making the right choices, but he still moves differently.

She asks him about it one night. Christine's soft breaths are coming to them through the baby monitor that she allows him to keep on his side of the bed now. She rolls onto her side and hooks an arm across his torso, "I'm not going to run again."

His head turns swiftly towards her, a sort of unknown look flits across his features, "I know that."

She tilts her head, "Do you?"

He sits up a little further and there's an edge to his voice when he speaks, "What's this about, Bones?"

She can feel the mood shifting and tries to explain herself, "I feel like it's something that you worry about. You move around as though we're at a crime scene and you want me to stay behind you. It feels like you're guarding me, like you don't trust me not to move."

His brow furrows in thought and he is silent for a long time. She fleetingly considers rolling away from him and letting him mull it over, but she's learnt a lot about human interaction in the past few years and she knows that she should attend all her focus on her partner in this moment.

"I know you went through a lot out there, Bones. I know you had to change and adapt to a lifestyle that you were never comfortable with. I know that you had to face raising Christine on your own. I know how scared you must have been, but how strong you must have been to hold onto hope. I don't want you to ever go through that again. I trust that you won't run, Bones. I do. But Pelant was in our house. He was here, I know it. And I guess I move like we're at a crime scene because I feel like we're at one." He runs a hand across her hand, holding it securely to him, "I don't want him to take you away again."

She swallows against the lump in her throat, she can feel the tears beginning to pool in her eyes, but she can't cry. She won't cry.

"We will get our life back, Booth."

He squeezes her hand, "I know we will."

There is something in his tone though, that assures her that he will be treating their home as a crime scene for a long time to come.


	13. Thorteso: French Fries

French Fries

_AN: Did anyone else catch that line about Brennan working at a fast food place in 8x02? For some reason it stuck with me. In honor of sunsetdreamer's graduation: I hope your degree keeps you out of the fast food kitchens, even though Brennan's did not._

Booth put down his fork and watched her. It was really her, Temperance Brennan. He knew that. He knew her. This was the woman who he woke up next to in the morning. This was the woman who insisted on organic diapers for their daughter. This was the woman he loved in a way he couldn't truly fathom. But something was off.

Since her return from a "life on the lam" things had been rough. He would fully admit that. When they weren't mis-communicating, they were being overly cautious and polite. This had improved in the course of the last month. Getting back into the rhythm of life was difficult, but not impossible. Nothing was impossible for them. They were Batman and Robin, Mulder and Scully, Clark Kent and Superwoman. Booth and Brennan.

But something was off. And, after he ruled out the body snatchers idea, he decided the best way to get answers, was to just ask.

"Are you on a diet or something?" Booth blurted out.

"What?" Brennan asked, a mix of indignant and amused.

"I am almost done with my lunch. You are almost finished with your vegetables..."

"Yes?"

"I ordered a BLT and fries."

"I know. I was sitting across from you when you ordered that from the waitress. Not to mention that I have been sitting across from you while you ate most of it."

"I ordered fries."

"I am aware of that."

"I haven't finished them."

"I can see."

"So, are you on a diet?"

"Why would the fact that you still have fries on your plate signal that I am on a diet? Wouldn't one logically conclude that the person leaving food on their plate would be the one trying to curb their overeating tendencies?"

"Wait, are you saying that I have overeating tendencies?"

"Are you implying that I have overeating tendencies or have not lost enough of the quote-unquote baby weight and should monitor my caloric intake?"

Booth's raised his hands in peace once he saw her eyebrow hit her hairline. "Whoa. Whoa. Can we start over?"

"You are the one who brought it up," she said as she went back to her salad.

"I'm sorry. You're right."

"I know."

With an eye roll, Booth continued, "What I was trying to say was, why aren't you eating any of my fries?"

"I thought you didn't like it when I took food from your plate?"

"Yeah, but it's one of our things, ya know?"

"I'm not sure I do."

Booth sighed again, "Is there a problem with the french fries?"

"I'm glad you asked. Yes, there is."

"Besides the fact that fried foods will lead to coronary heart disease?"

"Well, that makes two problems."

"Bones. Please, just tell me. What's wrong with the fries?"

"They don't make them correctly here."

"They don't make them right? What's to screw up?"

When Booth saw her begin using her fork as a pointer, he knew he was in for it and he probably should have just accepted the body snatcher idea.

"While I was on the run, when I worked in that fast food restaurant, one of my jobs was to make french fries."

"Yeah…"

"After a week or so of following their instructions, I decided that I had to be informed. Like any of my previous ventures, I needed to do extensive research in order to perform my job to the best of my ability. So I went to the local library to use the internet."

"What is there to be informed about? Potatoes, oil, salt, ketchup."

"Quite a lot actually. First of all, while possibly necessary in today's climate of heightened food allergies and anaphylactic reactions, the best oil to use is peanut oil due to the high smoke point. This combined with the fact that they were using mass produced frozen pre-cut fries, instead of fresh russet potatoes, further degraded the end result."

"OK, oh, Philosopher of the French Fry, what is the best way to fry a potato?"

"I'm glad you asked; this is where my research comes in. I could have easily called experts like Bobby or Alton, but since I was incommunicado, I decided, like any good empiricist, I had to perform my own experiments."

"We'll come back to the fact that you know famous chefs later."

"What? I get invited to their restaurant opening sometimes." Booth nodded and waved his hand at her to continue.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. It turns out that soaking the cut potatoes in cold briny water for up to 8 hours and then double frying them - first putting them in oil heated to roughly 160 degrees celsius, then, to truly achieve the desired level of crispy, again at 190 degrees celsius - creates the optimal french fry"

"How many more days until the manager fired you?"

"How did you know that?"

"Did you tell them they were doing it wrong?"

"Yes."

"Did you propose a more expensive and time consuming way of making cheap fast food?"

"Yes."

"And you insisted that if they were not going to do it the way you had told them, then you would not be able to do your best job."

"Yes."

"And then they told you to move on."

"Yes!"

"OK."

"OK," she agreed as she relaxed into the chair.

"Do they use the wrong oil and potatoes here too?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"OK. Are your standards too high now to eat them?"

"No, I have always loved the fries here, otherwise I wouldn't have been eating them for the past 7 years."

"So, why don't you want any of my french fries?"

"Because I was full and I am trying to monitor my caloric intake."

It was now Brennan's turn to sit back and watch her partner with interest. She was going to ask him why he was hitting his head against the table top repeatedly, but decided that some questions were better left unasked.


	14. So Long and Thanks

A HUGE thank you to everyone who participated:

BlindAssassin

Dispatch22705

Jenlovesbones

JMHaughey

Laffers18

ProfeJMarie

Razztastic

Some1TookMyName

Tadpole24

Thorteso

Many of these chapters will be posted on the authors' pages as well. Go favorite them and read all of the other amazing work that they produce on a daily basis.


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